Lady’s Smock, also called Cuckoo Flower, popped up its slender stalk in the meadow in mid April. I wondered if it would indeed herald the return of the cuckoo.

Looking at the delicate petals I kind of wished it would stay hidden a little longer because I’m not sure how I feel about the cuckoo. This is only the second year I have spotted this flower in the meadow so things are still evolving after 9 years of not fertilizing it.

Two days later I heard a cuckoo in the distance. They have returned from wherever they go every year. I braced internally for the meadow pipits and whoever else will spend all of their energy laying eggs only to have them tossed out by a massive interloping baby. Ah, lovely nature.

I decided to walk out into the meadow and observe this beautiful flower over the next few weeks. Without an agenda, or a desire to learn something specific. I just want to have a little conversation of sorts.

So how do you have a conversation with a flower? It was actually a daisy that started the topic of conversation funnily enough. I had been seeing lady’s smock all over the horse’s pastures and a few in the meadow. But it was when I observed the daisies one drizzly day that a question popped into my head.

There they were, the daisies, all closed up in the dull light of a cloudy day. Its petals were covering over the valuable pollen stores in its flower. The lady’s smock was open however and I remembered my ongoing question around why do some flowers close up and others don’t.

For a couple of days I went around to look at all of the lady’s smock in the meadow. This amounted to about 9 or 10 at the time. I gradually realised that each one of the open flowers nodded slightly downwards and not a drop of moisture reached in to the pollen stores or on the inner sides of the petals. There I was lying on the ground looking up into the flowers and trying not to squash anyone else.

The daisies and the dandelions remained closed. Then one morning it was a bit brighter and I noticed the daisies were open. So I went to look at the lady’s smock and lo and behold their open flowers were now pointing fully towards the sky. A few hours later it was raining and there they were pointing downwards again. I find this just incredible. So while they don’t close up like the daisies they do make sure to protect what is important.

I’ve since noticed that buttercups also close and open depending on the weather or time of day. Mouse ear does too, but marsh marigold stays resolutely open rain or shine. One other pink flower, yet to be named, nods its head downwards at night time. So the conversation has widened to include all of the flowers as I mooch around at different times of day and see who is doing what. I suspect the conversation will never end as new flowers emerge with their own unique pollen protection policies.

Another strand of conversation has also arisen. After admiring the incredibly soft petals for a few days I brought them to mind as I was going to sleep one night. I thought, “wouldn’t it be lovely to be able to curl up in a partially opened flower and be soothed and protected, just like their pollen.”

That lovely thought sent me off into a deep sleep. Every time I see the lady’s smock I think of that lovely gentle feeling. Every year it will remind me to rekindle that feeling of exceptional gentleness and care. Another friend has been made in the meadow. A wild and gentle beauty.

Leave a comment